Greatest Stories Ever Told - "Eyes Of The World"
By David Dodd
Here’s the plan—each week, I will blog about a different song, focusing, usually, on the lyrics, but also on some other aspects of the song, including its overall impact—a truly subjective thing. Therefore, the best part, I would hope, would not be anything in particular that I might have to say, but rather, the conversation that may happen via the comments over the course of time—and since all the posts will stay up, you can feel free to weigh in any time on any of the songs! With Grateful Dead lyrics, there’s always a new and different take on what they bring up for each listener, it seems.(I’ll consider requests for particular songs—just private message me!)
Given that last week’s post was “Estimated Prophet,” it seems appropriate to move right into “Eyes of the World.” The two became almost inextricably linked through hundreds of concert performances, and I’ve always wondered a bit about that…the musical progression didn’t seem particularly natural, with the disintegrating jam out of Estimated eventually giving way to Garcia’s invocation of Eyes via its easily-identified set of opening chords.
Thinking about the juxtaposition of the two songs, we have “Estimated Prophet,” with its maniacal raving deluded character, very much inwardly-focused, and then, bam: “Wake up!” as the chorus begins in “Eyes of the World.” Of course, the prophet in Estimated does accuse his listeners with the line “you all been asleep, you would not believe me...” but “Eyes” seems to say that the sleeper may have been the prophet.
Or, as usual, maybe I read too much into these things.
“Eyes of the World” is a Robert Hunter lyric set by Jerry Garcia. It appeared in concert for the first time in that same show on February 9, 1973, at the Maples Pavilion at Stanford University, along with “They Love Each Other,” “China Doll,” “Here Comes Sunshine,” “Loose Lucy,” “Row Jimmy,” and “Wave That Flag.” Its final performance by the Dead was on July 6, 1995, at Riverport Amphitheatre, in Maryland Heights, Missouri, when it opened the second set, and led into “Unbroken Chain.” It was performed 381 times, with 49 of those performances occurring in 1973. It was released on “Wake of the Flood” in November, 1973.
(I have begun to notice something I never saw before in the song statistics in Deadbase—the 49 performances in 1973 made me look twice at the song-by-song table of performances broken out by year in DeadBase X, which clearly shows the pattern of new songs being played in heavy rotation when they are first broken out, and then either falling away entirely, or settling into a more steady, less frequent pattern as the years go by. Makes absolute sense!)
Sometimes criticized, lyrically, as being a bit too hippy-dippy for its own good, “Eyes of the World” might be heard as conveying a message of hope, viewing human consciousness as having value for the planet as a whole. There are echoes in the song of a wide range of literary and musical influences, from Blaise Pascal to (perhaps) Ken Kesey; from talk of a redeemer to the title of the song itself.
Pascal seems to me to be the most significant echo. In his Penseés, published in 1680, he wrote: “The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know.” Hunter mirrors that thought with “The heart has its seasons, its evenings and songs of its own.” Going outside of the reason of the mind can allow an awakening. “You don’t have time to call your soul a critic, no” Hunter has Garcia sing. Hunter is asking us to trust in something that we can’t comprehend.
And then, he points to our daily lives and concerns and environment, such as the birds, which we might wonder about (where the heck do they go in the winter, anyway...and how do you pronounce “nuthatch”?). Sometimes things are fairly ordinary. Sometimes we live in no extraordinary way—just “no particular way but our own.”
In an interview, Hunter made an interesting statement about the “songs of our own,” which appear twice in “Eyes of the World.” He said that he thinks it’s possible each of us may have some tune, or song, that we hum or sing to ourselves, nothing particularly amazing or fine, necessarily, that is our own song. Our song. I know I have one—it’s a tune I think I’ve been humming to myself when I’m out walking by myself or just abstractedly doing some chore, for well over 30 years. Whenever I think to try to capture it, it’s gone—I really can’t sing it on command, but there it is, when I stop paying attention to it directly. I’d love to hear if others of you reading this have had a similar experience of having a “song of your own.”
I love the evocation of the song “Goodnight, Irene,” in the lines...
Sometimes we live no particular way but our own
Sometimes we visit your country and live in your home
Sometimes we ride on your horses
Sometimes we walk alone
Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own.
Goodnight Irene’s lines:
Sometimes I live in the country
Sometimes I live in town
Sometimes I take a great notion
To jump in the river and drown.
(Thinking about these Goodnight Irene lines, in turn, makes me think of Ken Kesey, and his novel Sometimes A Great Notion, and David Gans and his song “River and Drown”:
Let's go down to the river and drown
Ain't nothin' shakin' in this old town
Get out on the highway and follow that sound
Come on down to the river and drown)
Once again, that’s just how my brain works—maybe it’s how everyone’s brain works—and I just tend to let it wander and have its fun.
The title has an antecedent, in a novel, Eyes of the World, by the obscure Harold Bell Wright (1914), which was subsequently made into a film twice, in 1917 and again in 1930. From what I can tell, the relationship ends with the title, although I admit that I have never made it through the book.
The song leaves plenty of room for our own interpretation of certain lines and sections. The verse about the redeemer fading away, being followed by a clay-laden wagon. The myriad of images of birds, beeches, flowers, seeds, horses....
So, let’s hear it—and don’t hold back (no calling your soul a critic, no)—what does the song say to you? Does it have any particular relationship to “Estimated Prophet” outside of being a good musical companion? Which wins out in your inner arguments, your reason or your heart? Or, maybe, they are aligned in your life.
And while you’re at it, since it seems to have become a theme of these conversations, what is your favorite “Eyes of the World” and why?
Mainly because of the line "sometimes we ride on your horses," I always thought these lyrics were about Mickey Hart and all the stuff that happened with his father and the band. Mickey was obviously very affected by what happened considering he left the band for a few years. Anyways, I like to think that it was a message from Hunter to Hart.
July 31st, 1974. (Dave's Picks 2) Is probably my favorite Eyes of the World. I don't think they even start singing until about 5 minutes in. Not to mention the beautiful segue into a great China Doll...
The "Sometimes" lines are among my favorite of Hunter's lyrics, and I've never stopped to try to understand why. I'm not going to here, either, but they just resonate, especially the "songs of our own."
I think that I have a number of songs of my own...every once in a while I'll catch one of them and think, "Hey I'm writing a song! Need some words!" And then, you're right, it's gone. Is the difference between a songwriter and the rest of us that they can capture those melodies? How many times have you heard or read "The song wrote itself" from someone describing where a tune came from?
...except I'd reverse the order. First 7-8-78, then 3-29. A tie could be debated, but I agree those 2 are absolute tippy-tops in my book as well.
I think that the Branford Marsalis version from 3/29/90 is one of the favorite versions of "Eyes." I also like 7/8/78 from Red Rocks. The Red Rocks version was prob the first one I ever had, on cassette. The day I first acquired the tape, I played it in my car, and really started grooving to it. Unfortunately, the 45 minute tape side ran out right in the middle of the jam, and side two was the start of the drums. I was bummed.
Luckily I now have a digital copy and I'm happy. What a great "Eyes". And sounds even better complete!! Perhaps I'll go re-listen to it right now!!
Maybe the time has come to lay my cards down today. I really do live in the northwest corner in the legal state of Washington. I met the Lady back in 77 and lost at love by the end of 77.. again (she won again). I was crazy in love and space travelling at the time, but I was never crazy at a concert nor did I stand in the backstage door looking wild eyed. Since I had a ticket, I came in through the front door….It was easier that way. The concerts and the Dead saved me, which I am eternally Grateful. If I told you all that went down, it would take a long while, but I will try to be brief and to the point here. Does the Dead’s music have meaning and purpose? Yes, there is absolutely no other way to say this. Are the characters real? Yes, the soldier and the sailor do live in the northwest corner, along with Jefferson, Franklin, Lincoln and the rest of the crazies from the class of 76. As Stella Blue says, “it all rolls into one”.
We all see these songs from “our own” point of view and each song gives each person a different perspective on their own life and how to change their own life. Hopefully, we find love and acceptance and peace of mind in our time. The messages of the songs are always simple, but the journey is a long strange trip and in the end we will be Grateful Dead for hearing these songs that open our eyes. Nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile.
Enjoy the Ride!!!
I think I have 2. I don't know when or if they will pop up again,and now that you've brought it to my mention,I'm not even sure if I'll be able to catch myself humming or thinking them. It's interesting that they only occur when you are not thinking about them.It will be an interesting experiment.